


Pemma

by Olor_et_Luna



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Kidfic, M/M, crackled, implied amerihawk, implied philinda, implied winterwidow, so cracklite, this is the result of friends being enablers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 08:31:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9985490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olor_et_Luna/pseuds/Olor_et_Luna
Summary: Strange reactions to pain meds, shocking revelations, and human trash fires who are surprisingly competent at other things





	

**Author's Note:**

> I may make this a series, because there's so much more in my head. Not beta'd, written in the afternoon over lunch and posted directly to you.

It started as a fairly normal day. They went out, smashed a few evil robots, did some minimal property damage, and put the minor villain of the week away. They were standing in the kitchen of Avenger’s tower, pulling lunch together from the fridge, Clint and Tony rehashing the years old argument on Clint not actually moving into the tower, Tony going on and on about this perfect suite he put together that Clint uses maybe five days a month, all after bad missions, when there was a resounding THUNK and Clint was on the ground, bleeding profusely from the forehead.

Steve carried him down to the infirmary level, Jarvis notified Coulson, as per protocol, and everyone thought that was the end of it, they'd patch him up, ask him to stay the night, he'd escape through the vents, but then a nurse called for assistance.

\--  
“What do you mean you sedated him?” Natasha was glaring at the poor duty nurse.

“We tried using lidocaine, but it wasn't cutting it. He wouldn't sit still, there was a fair amount of swelling around the wound, the skin wasn't coming together cleanly and we didn't want to do anymore damage. Dr. Trent had us push a few CCs into the IV we always insert just to keep him from doing an immediate runner, and now we've got this issue! Why isn't it in his records?”

“Because we didn't want it getting out!” Natasha growled, only easing when Bucky touched her shoulder.

“What's going on?” Tony asked, sipping his coffee.

“Nothing Coulson can't handle. Clint just has a reaction to most major pain meds and anesthesia.”

“If he has an allergy, I need to know,” Bruce spoke up, “as much as I insist I'm not that sort of doctor, I administer most field medic duties, and just always assumed Clint's aversion to drugs was a throwback to being tortured so many times. If it's a reaction I don't want to make it worse.”

Nat pinched the bridge of her nose, “It’s not that, it's just...god he's going to kill me for this, but come on.”

They walked into Clint's infirmary room to see Coulson kneeling in front of him. “Calm down, it's going to be fine, are you sure this is what you need?”

Clint sniffled, holding a pillow tight against his chest, and nodded. Phil walked past them out the door, pulling out his phone, stopping to raise an eyebrow at Nat, Bucky, Bruce and Tony. Steve was sat in the corner of the room, stoic and tight lipped as ever.

“Nat,” Clint whined, snuffling again, “it’s so bad, and nothing is helping!” Clint hiccuped and buried his face in the pillow, making a noise when it hit his stitches.

“Shhhhhhh, I know little bird, but didn't Phil make it better?” She asked, soothingly, as she sat next to him and let his neck.

“No.” Clint said, voice very small. “It is so bad, it isn't right, Nat, it just isn't!” Clint started sobbing.

Bruce, Bucky and Tony exchanged alarmed glances. Steve just dropped his head in his hands, shoulders shaking.

“Flashbacks?” Bucky asked.

“No, I'd say hallucinations.” Tony replied.

“Somehow making the pain worse?” From Bruce.

“Nope,” from between Steve’s fingers, “apparently, his stomach is bothering him.” That is when everyone noticed that Steve was laughing.

“It's not funny Steven, my belly feels so icky, and if I threw up, it's be better, but I can't, so it won't, and I'm gonna have a hurty tum forever and then I'll never get to eat ice cream again!” Clint wailed.

Natasha just rolled her lips in and kept rubbing his neck and back, making shushing noises.

“Coulson normally helps but this time couldn't?” Bruce asked, trying to look serious.

“Noooo, told him I needed Pemma. Pemma can fix it.”

Nat froze momentarily before resuming the petting. “Are you sure? It's been pretty quietly safe for four years?”

“Pemma? Four years? What, Clint have a secret relationship we don't know about? A farm in the boonies with a wife and kids and dog we don't know about? That why the tower isn't good enough?” Tony asked, only half facetiously.

“Need it.” Clint sulked. “And Nat, you didn't tell me how sad Steven Universe was the last few episode, how could you!” The crying started into the pillow again.

“Sir, Agent Coulson asks permission to bring a guest into the tower. Scans indicate it is safe.”

“Very well Jarvis, let them up.” Tony said, getting ready to speak again before a very tiny, very blonde blur rushed past.

“Poppa, Nurse Pemma reporting. I brought purple boo boo bear for your head an’ I brought Rainbow Dash bandaids for your head an’ I brought butterscotchies for your belly an’ I brought magic Pemma kisses to make it better!” The little girl said as she climbed over Tasha to get on the bed and unload everything from her little purple backpack. First was a purple bear shaped ice pack was unceremoniously shoved on his head, a box of bandages dropped on his lap, a butterscotch candy was unwrapped by chubby fingers and shoved in his mouth and a sloppy sounding, loud kiss was placed on his cheek.

The room was quiet for about three minutes, minus the occasional sniffle and sucking noise coming from Clint. The little girl snuggled contently next to him, Nat still rubbing his neck and everyone else watching in various states of awe or confusion.

“Jesus Christ, Clint! You know I was only joking about the damned farm, right?” Tony finally broke the silence.

“Language!” Steve barked.

“Just, guys, give us a few hours and we can talk, alright?” Clint asked, finally looking a little better, sounding a little more normal. “Tony, can Jarvis stream anything without commercials, and do,you have safety rails for my bed? If you let me go to my floor, I can get her down for a nap, and we can meet in my private kitchen or in the main kitchen if I can monitor my room. And don't even try and tell me you didn't sneak at least one camera in there, Stark.”

“Uh...yeah, I mean. Totally man, I'll get maintenance to get a bed rail set up now, and you just let us know when you're ready.”

\--  
“So, thanks for the bedrails and the monitor, man this is so much better than the monitor set up I've got at home, you rock, Jarvis!” 

“Thank you, agent Barton. If you decide you would rather have the image fixed and not following you, just let me know. I will alert you when her respiration and heart rate indicate she is either close to waking, or having a nightmare. Enjoy your conversation, sir.”

Clint shifted his gaze from the image projected by Jarvis, to the assembled group, to Phil, Nat, and back to the image.

“So, where to start?”

“How about you start with sobbing mess, and work your way to surprise kid?!” Tony sounded borderline hysterical. 

“I'll take the ‘sobbing mess’ as it were, and let you explain Pemma on your own.” Phil stated. “It is not uncommon to have a SHIELD agent with a preference against drugs, of any sort. Half the time the battle over antibiotics is hardly worth it. They've an ingrained distrust in things that they didn't prepare or that are going to potentially alter their cognitive abilities or mental state. We didn't think anything of it when Clint started with us. At one point, he had made an offhand comment to a nurse that most strong painkillers made him nauseous, and another doctor reported that Hawkeye said narcotics made him emotional.”

“Both upset stomach and mood instability are common side effects of many pain relieving drugs, actually.” Bruce spoke up.

“Indeed that is true. Which is why no one thought anymore of it until the first time Clint had to be given morphine while staying awake. Apparently, anything stronger than ibuprofen or naproxen give Clint here severe nausea, coupled with emotional distress. Upset stomach leads to crying leads embarrassment, leads to further stomach upset leads to more crying, somewhere in the mix we end up with a very embarrassed, rather immature, and rarely vomiting Clint. Generally, peppermint and a few soothing words takes care of it. Rarely, it requires more. Myself, Nat, Fury, the girl’s mother and of course, agent May, all know about Pemma, as do the ones on SHIELD’s medical team who would keep her out of paperwork.”

“I knew.” Steve said, quietly, “I've known for about six months, and met her about two months ago.”

“What makes Cap so special that he got to know about her, or even meet her? You've known all of us for years, almost her entire life, I'd wager, and I get the rest but how come-oooooohhhh, oh,Barton, so you're saluting the flag, eh?” Tony grinned maniacally. “So, is he...proportional?”

“Dammit, Tony!” Steve snarled, calming once Clint took his hand over the table. 

“So, my turn. Her name is Penelope May Barton, and she is three and three quarters, and she goes by Pemma because it was the first way she said her name. Her mother and I were on an undercover op, things needed to happen to maintain our cover, apparently no birth control is one hundred percent effective. She didn't want to be a mother, I, it turned out, desperately wanted to be a father. The mother had to be out of rotation for a while due to other circumstances, she agreed to give birth, pending she could terminate any and all parental rights and requirements. I need it noted and never questioned that she was not forced into carrying this amazing baby, but she chose to, and I'm forever grateful. I also need it noted that I will never disclose who this agent is, and any attempt to find out will end poorly.” Clint looked around the table, making sure it was understood.

“Phil and Melinda are her godparents, should anything ever happen to me. Melinda opted out of active duty, for unrelated reasons, so I know she will be available if needed. I've got two live in nannies, so they can take shifts, and I try not to leave her without notice. Both nannies passed comprehensive background screenings, have early childhood education experience, speak multiple languages. Pemma has preschool for a few hours three days a week, is in gymnastics every other Saturday, and is trying to decide if she wants dance lessons or pony riding lessons more.”

“Why not give her both? I mean, you can afford a horse, hell,I can get her a horse. Ohhh, uncle Tony can get her an entire stable!”

“No! No, I'm sorry. But no. I don't lie to her, she knows poppa is an Avenger, and she knows that poppa likes boys, and yes, specifically that poppa likes Mister Steve, and that poppa has a dangerous job so she has to be careful and safe. But she also knows that poppa has rules, rules like you eat three meals and snacks every day, and that you have to eat fruits and veggies and proteins to get icecream treats. She doesn't always like it, but one of the rules is just because poppa can buy something, or give her something, doesn't mean she will get it. Poppa makes sure that some resources go to local boys and girls clubs, and children's homes, and foster programs. Poppa also makes sure that big animal and circus animal rescue groups gets donations, and the ASPCA...friggin sad song commercial having motherfuckers do good work.”

“Ok. But Clint, we are your team, your family. Why didn't you tell us?” Bruce asked.

Bucky snorted. “Man, I get it. Tash is like your sister, and Coulson here is your best friend, May is his gal, and Fury, hell, you can't even hide how many times you piss from that man, but if I had something that precious? If Nat and I could have something that precious, ain't one of you fuckers other than Steve finding out. And iffen I knew Steve had a kid? I wouldn't tell Tash unless and until he specifically said I could, and I doubt he'd think of it without me asking, so I don't hold it against Tash for not telling me, either. Hell, Tony, how many times has the big bad gone after your people? I get it. The more who know, the less safe she is.”

“I'm not gonna ask you to forget, now that you know, I'm just going to ask that it be kept quiet. If you'd be willing to update my suite, I'll let you know what would work for her for a room, as she is big enough for her own. Not saying I'll move in, but it would be easier if I spent more time here, for various reasons. I suppose Brigit and Brigitta will need to go through whatever Stark Industries has for background checks, but seriously, I've got her lined up for kinder in two years, and she's had the same pediatrician since she's been born, and I don't want her to become a spoiled princess. I also don't want you to give shit to Steve about this. If you have to choose one of those to go against, Steve is the better option, he blushes really pretty.”

“Ok, no spoiling Pemma, maybe teasing the star spangled man. Can you understand we are going to be upset you hid this?” Clint nodded. “Okay then. I think I am going to spend the rest of her naptime learning more about My Little Pony and Steven Universe, then.” 

Bruce followed Tony, leaving Bucky, Steve, Nat, Coulson and Clint at the table. Bucky slid down, kicked his feet up on the chair across from him and smirked. “So, Stevie, since the angel’s still napping, how bout you and me and Coulson discuss how great it is being with people who are so...bendy.”


End file.
